Another Life
by Klavierliebe
Summary: He shouldn't be dead, but he was. Just a strange boy. Just a strange dream.


I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

**.Another Life.**

For once in her life, Annabeth Chase didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Malcolm?" she mumbled, still half-asleep. "What's happening?" Her half-brother whipped around, chestnut hair tousled and gray eyes wide in the moonlight. He was tense as they mulled around the campfire, mashed with the other groggy cabin members. The chatter rose as Chiron appeared again at the doorway to the Big House.

"Let's find out," he muttered. Annabeth needed no more encouragement; sliding past her half-siblings and fellow camp members, she darted up to the threshold of the door before Chiron could shut the door and evade her.

"Chiron, what's going on?" she asked. The entire camp had been woken just moments ago by a hysterical Grover and an unfamiliar, sobbing woman. Their centaur teacher had shepherded them into the Dining Hall without even a word to the roused campers.

His face was creased with grief, and he shook his head sadly at Annabeth, making the coco-colored curls of his hair shake. "Another demigod has failed to survive past the gates of the camp," he murmured, stunning the daughter of Athena into silence. "He was slain by the Minotaur."

After a beat of silence in which she fished for the right words, Annabeth finally asked softly, "What was his name?"

Chiron looked at her with eyes of stormy clouds.

"Percy Jackson."

--

"Grover," Annabeth began, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear, "it wasn't your fault."

The curly-haired satyr was -- of course -- not listening to her. Instead, he was staring off into space, just as he had been all day. They were burning the funeral shroud at sunset, and he hadn't moved since lunch. "Yes it was, Annabeth," he mumbled, utterly despondent. "He shouldn't be dead."

Frustrated with his pessimism, she sprung to her feet and abruptly muttered a farewell, trudging from the fringe of the forest back to the cabin semicircle. Luke was there, moodily lounging against the Hermes cabin. His shoulders were hunched and his icy blue eyes were glazed over in thought -- he represent the blanket of emotion choking the entire camp: mute, sullen and moody.

She still approached him.

"Hi, Luke," she muttered, taking a seat on the grass beside him. He hardly looked up, just continued digging a stray dagger into the dirt.

They sat in silence for a while, nothing but the traitorously sunny breeze tickling their hair. It was an absolutely beautiful, perfect day…the absolute opposite of the raging thunder from last night, Annabeth realized. It was a shame for such a dreary day to fall upon terrific weather.

"That kid should be alive."

Luke's voice was cold and strong. It almost scared Annabeth for a minute -- surely startled her. The blonde boy beside her was talking on about Percy, just like Grover all over again. "I know," she whispered, agreeing with Luke.

For the life of her, Annabeth couldn't bring herself to care about the potential camp member that had fallen to the Minotaur. She didn't know him. She didn't feel responsible in the slightest, unlike Grover, or betrayed by his death, like Luke.

Percy Jackson was just another sob story.

--

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon when Chiron called the campers around the fire.

He needn't bother, really; more then half the camp members had already wandered over in preparation. Every soul in Camp Half-Blood knew of the ceremony tonight. Annabeth Chase was not one of those people who'd been lingering around the fire -- she had escaped to practice swordplay, until the setting sun reminded her to turn back in time for her mentor's call.

Grover was crying again: big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks like raindrops. The unidentifiable woman from last night was also there, standing by the podium with Chiron. Annabeth took her seat at the Athena table, wrapping her arms around herself as the evening chill began to seep from the cool grass.

Percy Jackson's burial shroud had been crafted by the Hermes cabin -- they were the only ones who'd volunteered. As far as Annabeth knew, Luke was the only guy who didn't contribute to it. The shroud itself was, in a word, amazing. Considering none of the campers knew who his godly parent was, the shroud was a pretty golden color with a Minotaur horn in the center.

Mr. D sauntered over to plop himself lazily in a chair by the podium, just as Chiron began to speak. "Percy Jackson," the centaur began, "was a half-blood much like yourselves. Unfortunately, he was unable to make it inside the camp's boundary lines and to safety. The Minotaur stole his life, and today we hold a ceremony to honor his memory."

Annabeth fidgeted uncomfortably as two demigods from the Apollo cabin strode out with a stretcher. A boy lay on it -- as if he had fallen asleep, and was merely snagging a nap before dinnertime. His hair was fluffy, ruffled and jet-black, almost covering his closed eyes. His skin was deathly pale, so pale Annabeth felt a tug in the pit of her stomach. _He looks like death, _she squeaked in her head, spotting the dark circles under his eyes. Such a pale, thin boy to be dead. So young to meet his end.

"I have asked his best friend and mother to say a few words -- Sally, do you wish to go first?" Chiron asked politely, turning to the strange woman. She nodded, eyes rimmed in red, and stumbled to the podium.

"Percy," she croaked, voice rough from crying. "was my only son. He…he was sweet, loyal, and very k-kind. He was…all I could've asked for in a son, a-and he reminded me _s-so _much of his f-father…"

After that, Sally Jackson burst into tears and Chiron lead her back to her seat. Annabeth didn't think she could sit through this. If Grover couldn't piece himself together to deliver his speech, Annabeth was leaving. Tears were most definitely not her forte -- she'd rather have fought the Minotaur herself.

Grover began, "Percy was -- in a nutshell -- exactly as Ms. Jackson described him: optimistic, bright, humble. Everything…everything I want to be. He was a great friend, and, and I'm really going to miss him."

With a couple of sniffles, the satyr clopped back to his seat.

As Annabeth's gaze returned to the boy and she blinked at his still form, something drastic happened. A figure appeared over his head -- blinking, green and glowing neon. A trident. The symbol of Poseidon, the god of the seas.

_Oh my gods…_Annabeth gasped, her palm flying to her mouth. Startled murmurs swept over the other campers as Chiron's eyes darkened. Percy Jackson was the son -- the _dead _son -- of one of the Big Three. "Poseidon has clamed him," the centaur announced. "Rest in peace, Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon."

With that, the two Apollo campers covered his body with the shroud.

Annabeth was the first to stand. She stumbled back, nearly tripping over a bench, and stepped away from the campfire for a moment. She ran a hand through her blonde locks, closing her eyes. A sudden flash of sea-green orbs shocked her from her brief silence, and she flashed back to Grover's words with a shiver…

_He shouldn't be dead._

But he was, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

--

That night, Annabeth couldn't sleep.

She'd been tossing and turning for hours to no avail. The rest of her cabin was snoring like hyenas, every single one of them blissfully unconscious. She wished for sleep desperately. Finally, late into the night, she got her wish and sank into slumber.

Unfortunately, dreams interrupted her.

_At first, she was swimming._

"_Hello?" she called, treading water. Glancing around, Annabeth realized she was in the sea, right off the shore from Camp Half-Blood's beach. She turned and immediately began swimming back to shore…but before she could get more then two strokes out, a hand grabbed her foot._

_Startled, Annabeth fumbled for a moment. Gasping and spluttering out water, she swiveled to glare at whoever had intercepted her. It was Luke -- Luke, with hungry golden eyes and an iron-like grip, tugging her ankle beneath the surface, farther down…_

_She kicked maniacally, but his fingers held tight -- Luke was drowning her in the sea…_

Then, the dream abruptly changed.

_She was standing in the cabin semicircle at Camp Half-Blood. At first, she thought she was completely alone -- until she turned and spotted him. _

_Percy Jackson, they boy who had died. He was standing in the moonlight, facing her with a puzzled expression. His hair was shiny and blew in the breeze, and Annabeth realized with a shock that his eyes were an odd mix of green and blue -- the same eyes she'd seen in her head today after his ceremony._

"_Annabeth?" he asked slowly, ink-black eyebrows crinkled together, his voice utterly perplexed. "What's going on?"_

_She suddenly found that her feet had been glued to the ground…or something along those lines; she couldn't move anywhere. She was rooted firmly in place, completely immobile. This dream was more like a nightmare, growing worse with every second…_

"_How do you know my name?" she asked, taking a deep breath._

_Percy stepped forward, hand outstretched as if he were reaching towards her, for her, but couldn't quite accomplish his goal. She was out of reach. "Oh, no," he breathed._

_His powerful eyes locked with hers, revealing the panic and desperation writhing inside of him. "I wasn't supposed to die, Annabeth," he admitted, voice cracking. "I was never supposed to die like this…"_

_He trailed off as Annabeth wished nothing more then to move, run away as fast as she could. This confusing boy didn't know her. She didn't care about him or his lost dreams, she just wanted to stop this freaky subconscious vision and wake up._

_Abruptly, Percy froze._

_For almost ten seconds, there wasn't a breath of life from him…then, he ran a hand through his hair stressfully. Catching sight of her fixed into place on the grass before him, his eyes went flat in the moonlight as he asked…_

"_Do I know you?" _

She woke up in cold sweat to the sound of pounding waves.

The sea was grieving. Annabeth wondered if there was anything to mourn over.

Just a strange boy.

Just a strange dream.

_Maybe in another life._


End file.
